The Definition of Heaven
by Johnette
Summary: In this short story inspired by John Milton's "Paradise Lost", Michael the Archangel confronts his brother, Lucifer, concerning the ideas of heaven. Michael tells about his life on earth and what heaven has come to mean to him. The sorrows of life extend into the afterlife and Michael faces the cause of all: His beloved brother. But redemption is possible, and Michael is determined


**The Definition of ****heav·en**

My soul never feels quite right when I visit. The light of God within me penetrates the darkness for only so far. The light never falls on anything, just emptiness, as if every creature in this loathsome place scurries from any hint of brightness. I somehow barely make out a dark silhouette against a darker black, or maybe I simply sense my brother's presence. I proceed to speak.

"Heaven is lovely—pleasant. Burdens are made light when they cannot be eradicated altogether. A sense of weightlessness envelops you, as if eternity lies at your feet ready to be made into anything you desire..." My voice trailed off and I paused. I waited for words, hoping for his while preparing my own.

"Love. It's all free. In the world, we watched as people cased it away, waiting for some payment of trust or loyalty, like their love was something to be earned. No such restraints exist anymore; we all just understand. We all learned and lived and changed. Change is never too late. You could learn, too; you all could. You will always be welcome. You can make it your home again." I waited, eyes searching in the dark and ears searching in the silence. A deep intake of unnecessary breath and a heavy sigh preceded further attempt, "I miss you. Some burdens cannot be lightened enough. My heart still maintains a heave toward you, always. I yearn for your return, and I am not alone in this. Father misses you greatly, all of you. Words cannot describe the loss of a child, yet it is so much worse to lose a child for eternity." I quieted once more and waited for a response I knew would never come. My spirit had sunken far deeper than this dreary pit could ever extend and I fled. I buried my sorrow at the bottom of that pit and the back of my mind and I returned to Heaven.

Again I found myself in the pit, desperate to convince my brother of a better everlasting life. The black surrounded me and the light which was in me made an impossible attempt to reverse the color. My feet clung to the ground as my heavy heart dragged me down. He was just close enough to be with me and just far enough to be apart from me, I felt.

"Lucifer, I love you. Do you still reciprocate, or am I now an object of hate?"

Emptiness.

"I always have to ask—I still hope. So does the rest of the family. Especially Mother. She tries to hide it, rather unsuccessfully. When you lose someone, nothing anyone else does can help. The person you've lost is still lost, nothing changes." I pondered. "But you could take it away—all the despair. You could come back, lead our siblings back. She could hold you again, warm you just the way a mother can. You could be whole again, you could make us all whole again. You could lead this Legion Home."

I craved his voice, longed for him to speak. It had been so long since I had heard him. Words of spite, hate, blindness; but they were words. They were so far away that I couldn't even remember the sound that formed them. I needed him to yell, scream, rage at me; anything to know, remember, acknowledge me.

Emptiness.

A soft gulp moistened my immaculate throat. More emptiness. I continued.

"What of my son? Surely he'll meet me and speak with me..."

The suggestion became stagnant in the air.

"The Garden was so beautiful, but I didn't know it at the time for I had seen nothing to the contrary. Eve and I spent many days there. Eve was ready much sooner than I—to battle you in that outside world. It was all too fresh in my mind. Everyone else to be born from us were to have no recollection, but Eve and I recalled every detail. Every emotion was still imprinted on my soul. I could call to mind the memory of your arrival here. I had pleaded with you to change your mind. You were convinced that you would be happier here, you were glad to go. You would not ever return, not for me, not for Father, not for anyone. You and our mistaken brothers and sisters would be free here. I begged you to come back. You did not want to. Father bid me come Home, and I obeyed, leaving you in this waste. I was sad and angry. But the work was ready to commence. In Eden, I could remember each emotion but not feel it. I would feel when I left. So Eve accepted your taunt and we became mortal.

"The world was so different from anything we'd ever known. I felt powerless and powerful, at the same time. Eve and I experienced everything together—physical strain, emotional strain, physical pleasure, emotional pleasure. We were absorbing all of this new information, these new adventures. We were learning. But God's was not the only work which had begun; you set to work also. I was always wistful when you preyed on my weaknesses. I rarely succumbed but it always stung.

"And then Eve and I became as close to gods as was possible in the world. We began to create. We raised innocence. Cain was born and he was divine. We started to understand life and what it was for; we experienced its purpose. And then Abel was born and he was just as marvelous. We loved each child and we did all things in our power to raise them up to their full potential. But perfection in parenting was always impossible in the flesh.

"Cain showed envy toward his younger brother, even as a child, for Abel was more righteous and received more blessings for his obedience. Cain grew distant and disdainful. One day, our sons went out to work in the field, the same as every day. When the sun had fallen, only Cain returned. Eve and I knew, we knew then what must have happened. We asked, where was Abel? Cain said he did not know, was he his brother's keeper?

"Eve stood on my right just close enough to touch, and I felt her body shaking. She collapsed onto the ground and I stooped to cradle her. Sobs racked her body and spirit, she wailed and wailed. I looked up into my firstborn's eyes, and I saw hate. But I held my gaze, and underneath the hate was a hint of remorse, as if watching his mother crack at his feet had finally registered the weight of his transgression.

"Cain left, and we knew he would not forsake his sins and return to the presence of God, but we still prayed. It was in vain; Cain had already been taken as your captive. Abel was stolen from us physically, and Cain was stolen from us spiritually. You convinced Cain that slaying his brother would somehow appease him. Cain was now removed—he had withdrawn himself from both his earthly parents and his heavenly parents.

"It was lonely, just the two of us. Sometimes in the night, I would wake to hear Eve calling for Abel in her sleep, then Cain. The calls would get louder and her body would strain itself, her face would contort, until finally she would wake herself. She would whisper each son's name once more, consciously, and I would take her brittle, broken body into mine and she would weep. She wept, and I clutched her, and it was impossible for either of us to revisit sleep. We would remain intertwined until sunrise, anguish pressing in on our tiny, damaged hearts. The day would be filled with menial work, anything to distract ourselves. Each night we attempted to find solace in one another as we embraced in passion and love.

"Eve bare another son, Seth. We were terrified that we might not be able to love him enough, if at all. We were terrified, what if he was just like his brothers? How could we live each day rearing a child who resembled so much a child we had lost? But it wasn't that way. Seth was so different from either of his brothers. He was so unique, loving, energetic. We were reintroduced to the healing power of children. He gave us all of his love, despite our inability to give him enough of ours. But he began to grow and we grew with him. Our love flourished and Eve and I were healed to an extent.

"We no longer lived as shells of our old selves—Seth had filled us. We never stopped loving and longing for our other sons, nor did we miss them less. But Seth had given us reason to appreciate life again, and we were all blessed. God had granted Seth strength and virtue, so his frail parents would not have to crumble again under the weight of tragedy. We all lived in righteousness and happiness. The sorrow of the past was not removed, just lightened, but that was enough.

"Eve and I lived with Seth in joy, and we watched as he brought up his own children in likeness of his own virtue. Our lives were long and full. Our seed through Seth was good, and Eve and I left the world. We returned to our Father, our work complete. We reunited with Abel. O, how long it had been! granted the days were shorter once we were joined by Seth. Eve and I were almost whole.

"But we still pined for Cain. We grievously watched the remainder of his years go by in iniquity and woe. We yearned for a change in Cain's heart, but it was not so. He was stubborn, like you. I had seen, as he was growing, the same change I had seen in you. I was reliving the horror of that War in Heaven with my own babe. I knew not only the pain caused by a brother, but also the anguish caused by a son.

"I was learning and feeling things similar to the things which Father had known in that War. I felt so low, unworthy—the misery was too potent and I too weak. In Heaven, I watched and waited, still hoping for Cain's return to God. Hope was stronger in Eve—a mother's love persists more forcefully and lasting than a father's. But Cain did not return to joy in that life and he passed with a heart full of despair. He was still stubborn and he joined you here. We miss him, we miss you. Things can be corrected."

Emptiness. My shoulders sagged as the wear of grief pulled at my soul.

"We watched not only as Cain neared his end, but also Seth, and we were happier. Seth always stood uprightly before God and he led his children to follow in his righteous path. When his life was ended, he returned to us straight away. We rejoiced. But we still waited and hoped for a transformation in our wayward son and our misguided brother. That was when I began to visit you. You were always so engaged in your work, that work which was terrible but necessary to God's Plan of Happiness. Growth was the key, and your work made growth possible. Now the world is expired and the work also. You can come back. Eternity can be light again."

I halted, weary from unloading so much. I wished he would talk. I wished he would do anything. Emptiness.

I returned to my Home with the ill-fitting name.

Once more I stood in Hell's mist, the dark surrounded me but did not overtake me. I listened for a noise that would never exist. I pondered.

"I am angry that you won't return. But because my body is now perfect, I have complete control over all my emotions and how I am affected by them. With the experience of corruption comes that capability to combat it. The same is true for emotion."

Pause. Emptiness.

"Heaven is pleasant, yes. But it is not perfect. I don't know how my heart can be completely mended while my brother, my son, and the rest of my erroneous siblings reside down here. How can I be completely joyous while loved ones remain miserable in this dreadful state? I have a loving family in Heaven and I am grateful. But it is incomplete! I covet the sound of your voice, I long for the touch of my lost son. There is a void in my spirit that cannot be filled except by the return of this Legion to our Home.

"What is Heaven when you cannot share it with _all_ of your family? Eternity in joy which houses no bliss. I miss my brother, my son, and I am not alone. What makes it worse is that the rest of the family misses you as well. There is happiness, though it is just a portion. We need you to complete our Heaven. Mother, Father, Eve, Seth, Abel, everybody impatiently awaits your unlikely return. We all pretend that you're coming Home soon because if we don't, we are left to face the catastrophe. We all hope because without it, we are ruined and battered for eternity. We are broken, and Heaven doesn't feel like it was proclaimed to be.

"It feels as though we are all stuck in our own Hell. It feels as though when you chose to live in Hell, you chose to force us to live in Hell as well. It feels as though Eve screams herself awake, and we sob and weep together, forever. We can control our emotions but we cannot be rid of them altogether. We are trapped in this controlled state of agony. We are forced to continue in this partly-full happiness, always dreaming for an end to sorrow which is impossible.

"Just before the world had passed, people had this saying, ' 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. ' It is difficult to agree with such a phrase when the loss in question pierces your soul for eternity. I beg of you, come back and change our Hell to Heaven. Make us whole, all of us."

My hands were stretched forth in the obscurity, calling for a returned reach. My heavy heart still labored to pump perfected blood through my perfected body. My dispirited soul still labored to control each emotional wave which crashed upon me. The sadness was unbearable, but I bore it. I waited for some sort of recognition but was met only with emptiness.

"Heaven is Hell without you. I miss you all. Is there no relent to the torment? Will you never return? Will Heaven continue as an eternal Hell? Will the sun never rise? Will Eve and I be trapped in the wailing night? Please come Home, it still hurts without you. Please. Please."

Emptiness. Imagined pain stressed my lungs.

I chose to whisper. Once more, "Please." I allowed one tear to slide down my glorious face. I stared into the black and longed. I would return to this darkness for the rest of eternity, always hoping and waiting. Always loving and wishing for love to be returned. I left that Hell and returned to my own. But I would always come back, convinced that I could someday persuade my brother to make my Hell a Heaven once more.


End file.
